


Eye of the Storm

by fannishliss



Series: Nine/Rose/Jack [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-21
Updated: 2011-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 15:49:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishliss/pseuds/fannishliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Bad Wolf, there's trouble between Nine and Jack.  Rose sets out to bring them back together.  </p>
            </blockquote>





	Eye of the Storm

**title:   eye of the storm**  
author: [](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/)**fannishliss**  
pairing: Rose/Nine/Jack  
rating: NC17 — adults only! explicit threesome, alien anatomy!  
spoilers: none, au potw, sequel to [Breathe and Be](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/101009.html)  
length: 8600 words

Summary: After Bad Wolf, there's trouble between Nine and Jack.  Rose sets out to bring them back together.  

~*?*~

The Doctor discovered the differences in Rose right away.  After the Tardis reabsorbed the vortex energy, he immediately took Rose to the infirmary for a complete scan. Other than temporary hysteria resulting from high levels of residual fury and incredible relief at being sent away and managing to return to save him, she was perfectly fine — no lasting physical or psychological damage.

In fact Rose was better than fine — the Bad Wolf had adjusted her physiology.  She was still human, but she would no longer age — damage done to her body would dissipate into the vortex shortly after occurrence, like a gentler, continual process of regeneration, leaving her forever healthy, forever young.  Jack had been killed and Bad Wolf had brought him back, also with mysterious signs of immortality, though harder to pin down than Rose's.

The changes in Rose's time signature made the Doctor edgy — but he was focused on doing sweet little things for her to get back into her good graces, so he soon got used to it.  Her time stream was odd now, but it had always been odd because of Bad Wolf's manipulations throughout Time.   The Doctor smiled through narrowed eyes at her once or twice, as though trying to figure her out — and then things went back to normal.  They walked through markets, they held hands, they bought trinkets and re-established democratic governments, they drank tea and spent long nights exploring one another's passion.  Things were great for Rose and the Doctor.

Still in the honeymoon of her love with the Doctor, and blissful at the discovery of her nigh-immortality, Rose took a little longer than she should have to recognize trouble in Paradise.  

Trouble was named Jack, and trouble slapped Rose in the face one morning at breakfast, less than a fortnight after Bad Wolf.

"Good morning, Doctor," Jack smiled, but the light on his face died when once again, the Doctor nodded and briskly passed to the other side of the galley from Jack to see to his toast.  

Jack smiled weakly at her, finished the last bite of his own pastry, and stood up, sauntering out of the room with coffee in hand.  He didn't bother to say where he was going.

The Doctor sighed and rolled his neck, standing a little straighter, a little more relaxed.

"What is up with you?" Rose demanded, shocked at his rude behavior, even as she realized it had been going on for some time.

The Doctor lifted his shoulders and let them fall, not even turning his head.

"Oh no, you can't pull that with me," Rose scolded.  "Something's off with you, Doctor, and I want to know what."

The Doctor lifted his left hand and rudely made a yammering gesture, continuing to mess with the tea things.

Rose breathed in, counted to ten, and slowly breathed out. "Two can play at that game, Doctor."  With that she put her breakfast dishes back in the cupboard (the Tardis's self-cleaning cupboards, along with the Breadbox of Eternal Freshness, were two of the best things about the ship in Rose's opinion) — and breezed out of the galley without further ado.

She found Jack on the cricket pitch.

"I just can't get the hang of cricket, Rose,"  he said.  "It's like baseball, if it the rules got rewritten by a committee of flamingos and hedgehogs."

"I'm pretty sure you're thinking of Alice in Wonderland, not cricket," Rose said, half-smile, half-frown.  

"Well, at least the wicket doesn't tiptoe away," he said.

Rose watched for a while as Jack attempted to pitch, with a slow curve of improvement. The Tardis reset the wicket when he managed to hit it and rolled the ball back after he threw.  

"Do you think I should ask him?"  Rose said, abruptly. She'd been working up her nerve.

Jack didn't try to pretend he didn't understand.  "Well, that depends," he sighed.

"On what?" Rose said, but apparently her heart was ahead of her, because it began beating harder, faster.

"On you," Jack said, off-handed, practicing his windup.  "On whether you'd rather I stick around, or ask him to put me off somewhere, somewhen near I came from."

"Put you off?" Rose exclaimed, shocked. "No!"

"Really?" Jack said, voice a bit smaller.

"Jack!  You're my friend.  You're his friend.  He doesn't want to put you off!"

"Maybe he didn't before, but he does now.  Whatever happened to me gives him a headache.  Haven't you noticed?"  

Rose realized Jack was right. The Doctor's behavior suddenly made sense to Rose — he was covering up the fact that ever since Bad Wolf,  it physically hurt him when Jack was around.

"But why?  What did We do to you?" Rose asked.  

"I don't know — one minute a Dalek was killing me, then I woke up and the Daleks were all gone."  

Rose thought about it.  The memories of being Bad Wolf were difficult to make sense of.    Thinking specifically about Jack, that a Dalek had shot him, she was finally able to recall the instant when Bad Wolf brought him back to life by wishing it so, but remembering didn't make it any easier to understand.

"Is he getting headaches because you're a paradox?" Rose asked, alarmed.  She remember the horrible creatures who'd come to cleanse away paradox when she'd impulsively saved her dad's life — she never wanted to see those things again.

Jack shrugged.

"What makes you any more paradoxical than me?" Rose said.

Jack looked straight at her.  "I was dead, and then I wasn't.  I'm guessing my proper time stream came to an end, but I'm still around."

"Which is different to what Bad Wolf did to me," Rose realized.  "Bad Wolf went all throughout time on my behalf —  just the opposite of what happened to you.  The Doctor said my time stream had always been oddly divergent, and now he understands why."

Jack nodded.  He tried to smile, but Rose saw how bleak he looked.  He'd been a conman, a loner by necessity —but after helping bring Rose and the Doctor together, he'd become attached to them.  He hadn't tried to edge his way between them, but Rose couldn't help responding to Jack's friendly overtures, even though the Doctor had remained a bit aloof. Privately, the Doctor had assured Rose that he was confident in her affections and didn't feel odd about her deepening friendship with Jack.  

Not, that is, until Bad Wolf brought Jack back from the dead and the Doctor began to pretend he didn't exist.

"I want to talk to him about you, Jack," Rose said, with a worried look.

"Your funeral, babe," Jack said, and went on throwing the ball, and the Tardis rolled it back to him, over and over.  

====

Rose let the Doctor find her.  She went to the pool, her favorite place to while away the hours, basking in the Tardis's simulated summer day, drinking tall glasses of lemonade, and leafing through the perfectly preserved nineteen-sixties fashion magazines she'd found stashed away in the library, which was almost always adjacent to the pool.

The Tardis had a high-end dumbwaiter at the pool — Rose had no idea why it was at the pool instead of the galley — but if she stated clearly what she wanted, and then opened the hatch, the order would sometimes be waiting inside the little alcove.  There was always something, but sometimes, instead of her order, the Tardis would produce a paper bag of jelly babies, a fish-shaped nutrition bar that tasted altogether too healthy, a glass of milk and jammie dodgers, or a steaming cup of Earl Grey.  

Today Rose had successfully ordered a delicious cress sandwich for lunch, but at teatime, she'd gotten the jammie dodgers.  

So when the Doctor finally drifted into the pool room, carrying a thermos of tea and a packet of her favorite biscuits, he smirked at her until she realized her nonchalant "hello" had been somewhat undermined by a milk mustache.

He dropped down onto the chaise longue adjacent to hers and grinned at her.  She couldn't help grinning back as she wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist and took the bull by the horns.

"Why does Jack give you a headache?"

The Doctor's grin faded to a baleful look, and he went on chewing Hobnobs for a long minute.

"What gives you that impression?" the Doctor finally replied.

"Well, you act like you can't even stand to be in the same room with him, ever since Bad Wolf," Rose said.   

The line appeared between the Doctor's brows and he got that pinched look around his lips that meant he was trying to appear unconcerned and not succeeding.

Silence stretched out.

"Jack thinks you want to put him off the Tardis," Rose blurted.  

The Doctor's expression deepened into a definite frown, and he didn't deny it.

"Doctor!" Rose exclaimed in chagrin.  "You can't be serious.  Jack's our friend!"

He looked into her eyes as if searching for something.  Moments like these brought home that the Gallifreyans' first language had been telepathic, not lingual.  The look he was giving her seemed laden with meaning — if only she could have deciphered it.  

She reached out her hand, and when he laid his cool palm against hers, his feelings streamed directly into her consciousness: gratitude, love, concern, and repressed revulsion. Ever since they'd become lovers, his emotions had been a hundred times more open to her.  Even before, holding his hand had been exciting and made her feel safe by turns.  Now, it was a direct empathic link that allowed her to feel what he was feeling.  This sense of revulsion toward Jack made Rose's heart plummet.

"Is that how it makes you feel, to be around him?" she asked.

The Doctor nodded.  "He doesn't fit.  He's some kind of, I don't know, time sink or summat.  It makes me almost sick to be in the room with him."

"Why?"  Rose asked.  

"You humans," the Doctor said with a sigh, "you have vertigo, right?  that dizzy feeling when you're too high off the ground, or sometimes, when lights flicker too fast in your eyes.  With Jack, it's because my time senses keep trying to place him in time and when it doesn't work, my brain goes into high alert.  Very jarring."

"What do you see when you look at Jack?" Rose asked, soothing his hand with her thumb.

"I can see him with my eyes, of course," the Doctor said, rolling them sardonically.  "But in terms of time, it's like he's not there."

"But he is there.  He's right there in front of you!  Can't you just, I don't know, retrain your senses to detect him?"

The Doctor looked at her with interest, and she felt his admiration for her idea pulse through his hand, mixed with fear.

"Why does it frighten you?"  Rose asked.

The Doctor lowered his gaze, but his hand on hers tightened.  She could feel his trepidation, even a hint of shame.  "On Gallifrey, there was an anomaly, the Untempered Schism.  Young Gallifreyans — potential Time Lords — would be taken to this place and shown the horrors of that hole through time and space. Exposure to the energies of that rift created Gallifreyan time consciousness in the first place — the creatures that became Tardises, too.  But looking at it challenged the Gallifreyan mind almost to the breaking point.  It used to be said that, faced with that rift, some would be inspired, some would run away, and some would go mad."

"Which did you do?" Rose asked.

Rose felt his mixture of pride and shame as he answered, with a shrug, "A bit of all three, me. It's very painful, looking at something like that.  And now Jack, on my Tardis — at my breakfast table — "  he blushed hot, and Rose felt how shame overpowered him.

"You don't have to be ashamed," she said.

"Yes, I do," he said.  "I shouldn't let this aversion control how I treat a man— a good friend."

"Then do something about it," Rose said, "instead of just trying to avoid it."

"Right," he said, and as her leaned his head in for a kiss, Rose was amazed at how much their relationship had changed — and who knows how long it would have taken them to tear down the barriers between them, if Jack hadn't done it for them.  

Rose lingered at the Doctor's lips, tasting the citrus and honey of his skin, till he pulled away.  Their hands still clung together, and the Doctor was pouring love into her mind, love and relief and gratitude — always gratitude for the compassion she grounded him in.  

"We have to make it right between you and Jack — we owe him that."

He nodded, and she felt his renewed determination.

===

It didn't work to try and ignore it.  On the first try, next morning, the Doctor had sat at breakfast with Jack— but by the time Rose had walked in, he was so pale and sweaty, his hand gripping his thigh under the table with a ferocity of will, that Rose barked at Jack to get out and she'd explain later.  Jack had hastily done so.  As soon as he left, the Doctor breathed more easily, and spots of color sprang into his cheeks as he contemplated his failure.

"It's not going to work," he said grimly.

"We'll try something else," she said. "What about drugs?"

"What?"  the Doctor said, shocked.

"Anti-nausea drugs?" Rose said patiently.  "Humans have them — don't Time Lords?"

"Time Lord physiology is its own pharmacopeia," the Doctor said archly.  "Time Lords are made of stronger stuff.  Not meant to lose their stomachs over a bout of disorientation."

"An anomaly like Jack is more serious than a little disorientation,"  Rose said.  "Seems to me exactly the kind of thing Time Lords should face head on."  

The Doctor shook his head, his eyes gone gray in memory. "Nah.  Time Lords didn't face anything head on.  They watched — and every so often, they sent me to do the dirty work."   

"Just you?" Rose asked, always eager to learn about his people and their mysterious ways.

"Yeah," he said.  "I was a rebel — and doing their bidding kept me on their good side.  Mostly."

Secretly, Rose didn't like the sound of his people very much, if they'd both condemned him and tried to keep him on a leash.

"Well, then — how about acupressure?"

"Acupressure?"  The Doctor responded, with as much scorn in his voice as though she'd told him to cross his fingers or throw salt over his shoulder.

"It works for humans," Rose said.  "Shireen taught me this trick where you pinch your hand where the thumb and forefinger meet, and it stops you feeling pain at the dentist."

But the Doctor was already shaking his head. "Nah.  Won't work on Time Lords.  Duplicate systems -- designed so that if one neural pathway is blocked, there are always bypasses."

"But what if you're in pain!" Rose exclaimed.  "No painkillers?"

"No — and by the way, you should know that I have a deadly allergy to aspirin."

"Noted!" Rose said,  eyebrows high with disapproval at Time Lord physiology.

===

Later on, Rose found Jack under an apple tree in one of the gardens, the one with all the fruit trees in different stages of fruit.  

"Did you ever wonder who planted this apple tree before the Tardis brought it on board?" Jack asked.

"I wonder a lot of things about the Tardis," Rose said, leaning up against the tree next to Jack.  

"How she stocks up on food without us ever shopping," Jack said.  

"How she goes on forever somehow.  The corridors just lead back to my room when I'm tired."  

"She led you here," Jack said.  

"Of course she did," Rose answered.

Jack looked at her.  His face was bare of charm or calculation.  He looked ready to give up hope.  

"He was really trying this morning," Jack said.

"Of course he was!"  Rose repeated.  

"But it didn't work," Jack said, but Rose's jaw had dropped.  

"She led me here," Rose whispered.  

"Yeah,"  he said.  "She does that."

"She knows where you are."  

"Of course she does!" Jack said. "So what?"

"But the Doctor told me — that's what's wrong.  He can't sense you properly — only with his, er, human-type senses.  His time senses can't cope with the lack of input about where you've gone."

"So?" Jack said again, a little more bitterly.  

"Just humor me," Rose said. "Say — you're the Tardis."

"I'm the Tardis," Jack joked, waggling his eyebrows.

"No!" Rose laughed.  "Just assume — you want breakfast."

"Am I still the Tardis?" Jack frowned.

"No!  God.  You're Jack, all right, and you want breakfast!"

"I really do.  I'd hardly begun when you chased me out!"

Rose picked a beautiful glossy red and pink apple from the grass, polished it on her shirt, and he chomped into it with his perfect teeth.  

"You want breakfast, so she takes you to the Galley. She takes the Doctor there too!"

"Yeah?" Jack drawled.  "I don't get it."

"She wouldn't let the Doctor walk in on something that would make him sick unless it were really important — or unless, there's some kind of simple fix we're overlooking!"

Jack shook his head loosely between his shoulders.    "I stopped believing in simple fixes when I became a Time Agent."  

"There's gotta be something.   I wish we could just ask her, you know? Stupid Time Lords."

Jack looked at her inquiringly.

"The Tardis is telepathic?  a living supercomputer with access to the entirety of time and space?  and they took away her ability to speak?"   Sometimes, the thought of what they'd done, developing their TT capsules by enslaving sentient entities at the core — it gave Rose the horrors.  It was monstrous.  The Doctor had run away from his people for a reason, and eventually, he'd had to destroy them.  Sometimes Rose had an inkling of what they might've become, but it was all past, so she tried not to think about it.   

Her link with the Tardis had grown stronger since Bad Wolf.  Sometimes she felt the urges the Tardis sent her — little waves of excitement or tugs of reluctance that came from what felt like the nape of her neck  — sometimes, more rarely, an image, say, of a tool the Doctor needed,  or a visualization of her hands performing some simple action, like a certain lever that wanted pulling.

This particular problem seemed to be beyond the Tardis's range of communication.  But Rose did feel better knowing that the Tardis didn't want Jack gone, and in fact, had repeatedly led them together.  Just the fact that the Tardis had no problem perceiving him and would still lead him to his favorite places on board spoke for something.  

Sympathetically Rose reached out to take Jack's hand—warm, human, so different from the Doctor's, yet so similar — safe, comfortable, familiar, strong — beloved.  

Rose looked up at Jack.  Their eyes met.  Rose saw the longing there, felt the heat flush through his hand as his pupils dilated.  

"Jack," she said, breathily. She remembered how glorious it had been, when Jack had led the Doctor through making love to her for the first time.  She loved Jack — all the nobility and strength he hid inside himself — and under threat, those feelings came surging to the surface.  

He shook his head, closing his eyes to break the spell — but he didn't pull his hand away.  

"No," he said.  "Not — not without him too.  Call me selfish, but I don't want a shadow of what the two of you have together — I want it all, or nothing."  

"I don't know," she said, lowering her gaze.  But then she steeled herself and met his eyes again — blue eyes, but so different from the Doctor's.  How could two sets of beautiful blue eyes be so different, so unique, and yet call out to her each in their own way?

"I don't know," she repeated. "I mean, I care about you, Jack.  A lot.  But, I've given myself to him — so that has to come first.  And I just, he's not like us, you know?  Having opened himself to me, having chosen me — I don't know if he can do it again — I don't know if he can give himself twice."

"I understand," Jack said.  "I was there, remember?  I helped bring down the wall from between the two of you — and that wall falling was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen — maybe ever will see.  If that's all I ever get of you, that has to be more than enough."

"But ..." Rose said.  She took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm greedy too, you know?  The only thing better than have one fantastic man in love with you — is having two, right?"

She laughed, feeling the heat of her red face as she spoke.

Jack stroked her hand soothingly. "No argument there, love," he said, and the rough silk of his voice sent shivers down her spine.  

But Rose was still realizing, still coming to understand. She peered at their joined hands as if they held the key.   "The Bad Wolf made me immortal so I could be with the Doctor forever.  I mean, the Bad Wolf was the Tardis and me, and We love him, and We knew what We wanted.  But...  We made you immortal too.  There has to be a reason for that.  There has to be.  Bad Wolf taught me that."

She looked up at him.  "I won't give up.  I won't let him give up.  I promise you."

"Wow, Rose," Jack said with a grin.  "A Tyler promise — that's serious business."

"Yes, it is," Rose said, and shook his hand lightly to make it solid.  

===

Later that night, Rose was already in bed, when the Doctor came in. She usually slept in her own room because she knew the Doctor didn't like the mess she made of her things.  She laughed at his bureau drawers — one drawer full of neatly folded denims; one of neatly folded identical jumpers in various dark colors; and one drawer of rolled black socks and black boxer-briefs (neatly folded). There was never a single item of clothing to be seen anywhere in the Doctor's room — unless it was the jacket, hanging neatly on the coatstand near the door — or clothing that had been flung from their bodies in the heat of passion.  It was some comfort to Rose that the top surface of the bureau was scattered with objects from out of his pockets, and his standing desk was covered with a snowfall of little bits of paper jotted with things he'd hastily jotted down.  

She was sleepy, but she smiled at him as he sat down on the bed and picked up her hand.   She felt his bravery, his determination to try again with Jack despite the morning's failure — then suddenly, shock!

"What is it?" she said.  She sat up, wide awake.  

"Jack," he said, his voice hoarse.  She felt something like awe from him.  "I feel him. You were with him."

"Yeah," Rose said.  "I sat with him for a long time this afternoon."  

"I can feel that!" he said.    His voice was sharp.  Rose would have been alarmed, if not for their link.  Emotions were tearing through the Doctor:  shock that he'd noticed Jack's presence; confusion that he'd felt Rose's perception of Jack; possessiveness as he faced Rose's growing attraction to their friend.

"Rose," the Doctor groaned, as possessiveness and need seemed to flood through him.  "I need you!" he whispered.  

"Here I am," Rose said.  

The Doctor bent down and took her mouth.  She offered herself up to him, giving everything to him in the purity of their kiss.  He kissed her until she was gasping for air, head swimming and body burning for his cool, enflaming touch.  

The Doctor tore off his clothes, leaving them in a little dark heap on the floor, and as he did, she slipped her nightgown over her head, throwing it at random across the room.

The Doctor settled over her, and she lifted his hands to her temples, singing the name she'd learned in Gallifreyan in greeting. It was a beautiful name, its meaning coming to Rose just shy of the brink of her comprehension.  

The Doctor sang back her own name in Gallifreyan.  She was entranced by the way it rang, swelling into echoes of meaning before it faded.

The two names fit together, just as their bodies fit together, just as their minds aligned with one another in harmonious counterpoint.  

Lowering his temple to hers, he took her hands in his as his sex slipped inside her.  It was always a tender torture, the feel of him swelling slowly into her, the sweet anticipation as she yearned for the bliss his union with her would bring.

"I love you, how I love you, my Rose,"  the Doctor thought, as rapture flowed into her, billowing into Rose like shapeless clouds of crimson and orange.

Rose could barely think, as waves of pleasure swept through her body and mind.  "Yes, Doctor — you!"  was the best she could manage.

They crested together, bursting like fireworks, drifting lazily down again in a shower of golden sparks.

Rose cradled the Doctor, his head on her breast, mesmerizing himself with the steady beat of her single heart.  

"You don't know — you'll never know — the hell you brought me back from," the Doctor murmured.  

"I'm so sorry," Rose said, as she always did, meaning it with every fiber of her being.  

The Doctor seemed to ignore her, but she felt a comfort, a peace, wash through him at her words.  

After a pause he said, "I'd never deny you anything.  You know that."  The calm words were underlain by trepidation, and something hot — possessiveness? jealousy?

"Please don't be jealous," Rose said.  "There's no reason to be jealous."  

"It's not intentional," he said, a bit of a pout in his tone.  "I've never had a mate before — and now, you want me to share."

Rose flushed. Her hands, leisurely stroking his back, seized on to his shoulders before she relaxed them.  

"It hasn't — it's not— "

"Sh, Rose, I know.  I know, yeah?"   His voice was soft, soothing.

"Yeah," she whispered, feelings a tangle.

He didn't bother to try and speak out loud, his hand drifting back toward her temple.  Sometime, his thoughts were just too swift and complicated for him to slow them all down and simplify them into English.   Other times, he was wracked by such a storm of different emotions that nothing he could say could adequately express what he was feeling.  At any given instant, the Doctor's vast and powerful mind was a haphazard combination of rapidly firing thoughts and the crystalline emotions that swirled around them.  The empathy Rose gained by joining with the Doctor was a most precious gift.  Now she understood that the mercurial emotions he let fly into the world were only the tips of enormous icebergs floating under the surface, a chaos of deep emotion constantly jockeying for expression.  The Doctor was not a calm man — anything but calm.  He was passionate, excited, joyful, grieving, enraged, but he was hardly ever calm, unless he was sonicking something, tinkering with the Tardis, or relaxing in a post-coital haze, lulled by the symphonies of heartbeat,  breath and blood her body sang into his.  

Lying against him, pressed skin to skin, she could feel all that he was feeling, and some of his clearest thoughts rang out as though she were hearing them from the next room.  But for her to share his thoughts, he had to touch her forehead or temple.  

He let slip his thoughts for her perusal.  During lovemaking, she had no need to try and follow the lightning flashes of his inspiration.  When he was trying to tell her something, however, she had to open her mind as wide as possible, just to let his thoughts make their impression on her consciousness, and she tried to follow him as best she could.  

She could hear in Gallifreyan their names, simultaneous, intertwining.  She could see the way their joining would have been transcribed in circular Gallifreyan, something like a mathematical transcript of the old High Language.  She could feel the intense joy and reverence the Doctor felt because of their union, and she saw, on the edges of his consciousness, a deep blackness of nothing, the void he had lived in alone after his telepathic link with other Gallifreyans was severed.  She saw, deep in his consciousness, his foundational bond with the Tardis.  His ship glowed coral and blue there at the basis of his mind, comforting him with a constant stream of impressions from her strange awareness.  She had pulled him through the agonizing trauma of the war, she'd kept him from being utterly alone, and Rose loved her for that most of all.

Then, there was Jack.  Whereas the Doctor allowed Rose to permeate his consciousness, and the Tardis was deep down a part of him, the Doctor seemed to compartmentalize his feelings about Jack: a bold, swaggering presence, a challenge, a rival, or at least, a sparring partner — but at the same time, fellow traveler, companion, friend.

Rose sensed the Doctor bringing forward a particular thought — but when she caught it, she felt it the way he had felt it, almost as a blow — Jack on his knees, right there in the console room, baring his neck to the Doctor, freeing and proudly offering his submission.  Rose realized she was seeing how Jack had done it − how he had broken through the Doctor's defenses to bring them together.  Rose couldn't control her powerful swell of gratitude and love at this image of Jack, so open, so giving, so beautiful.

"He is beautiful," the Doctor thought to her, and images of Jack in action fluttered around the thought like leaves of a book or a thousand open windows.  The Doctor truly admired his human friend, and it made Rose glad. The nasty sick feeling of the Doctor's response to the anomaly, the grief the rift from Jack caused in him, tinged but could not sour his admiration.  

Then the Doctor shared with Rose a gleaming ray of hope:  the sense of Jack, whole and well, that he had felt through Rose's palm— the first uncorrupted information the Doctor had been able to take in about Jack since the Daleks tore him out of existence.  Rose finally understood how the Doctor had been grieving — Jack was lost to him, lost to the senses that dominated the Doctor's perceptions of the universe.  Without a sense of his place in the timestream, Jack's physical body standing right in front of the Doctor was no more than abomination, an animated corpse, a hollow echo of the entity that had been his friend.    Rose felt the Doctor's revulsion and for the first time, understood.

She brought forward the afternoon under the apple tree, and she felt the Doctor's astonishment at the perfect wholeness of Jack as Rose had seen him.  She felt the hurricane of thoughts swirling possibilities around, as though every bud, blossom and fruit in the Tardis's orchard had risen up into the air and began to spin in an elaborate dance.  

The Doctor focused on their hands, their joined hands, and suddenly, like lightning, his massive brain cracked the problem.  

Bad Wolf had absorbed Jack's time stream.

Bad Wolf was the anomaly.

"I bring life," Bad Wolf had breathed, breaking Jack's death and subsuming his timestream in Her own — the timestream of a new immortal, bonded with an ancient creature who'd woven herself throughout time, and both of them loved the Doctor.

Rose reeled as she understood it.  

Bad Wolf, the Doctor's bonded ship/oldest friend  and his bonded mate/true love, had brought another beautiful soul into alignment with his.  

The Doctor's reactions dizzied Rose.

Glory!  Astonishment!  Triumph!  A stream of incomprehensibly fast Gallifreyan equations!  A dizzying spinning elation!

Hunger, need, driving overwhelming need —action!   — Rose we have to go find Jack right now Rose up up up here this is fine come on come on!

And then he was practically dragging her out into the the corridor— not very far though, because Jack's room was suddenly right across the hall, and the Doctor was pounding on the door.

"Jack! Jack! Open this door, lad!  Now!"

And Rose was shivering, nothing but the Doctor's jumper thrown hastily over her head, the Doctor in open denim trousers and nothing else — their bare feet dancing on the cold coral of the corridor floor, and Jack was naked, blinking away sleep and staring at them like they were insane.

Which, apparently they were, as the Doctor shoved Rose into Jack's arms, ripped the jumper from her body, and pressed the two of them together from chest to knee, his big hands wide and cold on their backs.  

He stood staring, eyes wide, mouth agape.

"I can see you!  I can see you, Jack!  Oh, Rose!"  Rose watched as the Doctor's grief broke, tears springing into his eyes and rolling down his face.  

"Not that I don't appreciate the attention, because believe me, I do, but could someone please tell me, what the hell is going on?" Jack said, his arms comfortably folded around Rose, his hands soothing her back, and his sex stirring with interest against her belly.

"Surprise?" Rose said through her laughter.  

"Surprise!" the Doctor echoed, also laughing.  

"Um, okay?" Jack said, squinting at them, but his smile came out and shone on them like the sun.

"Come on, come on, you humans are so unbearably slow, why are we still standing here in the hallway, by the vortex, my room is just here!"  

The Doctor herded Rose and Jack back across the corridor into his own room.  The huge, lovely bed was one of the most beautiful things in the Tardis, Rose thought, not at all influenced by the kinds of things that usually happened in that bed.  Those glowing hues of crimson and orange that made up the Gallifreyan silk coverlet were her favorite colors now, and she'd never been all that fond of orange.  

The Doctor unceremoniously whipped the coverlet away and pulled Jack and Rose down to the bed.  

"All right, Jack!" he said eagerly.  "Let's get this sorted!"

"Boy, do you run hot and cold!" Jack said. "How have you gone from not being able to look at me to having me naked in your bed.  And by the way — the two of you smell fantastic."

Rose blushed as he realized that she and the Doctor must reek of their lovemaking.  At least this was a fresh bed!

"I'm sorry I hurt you, Jack," the Doctor said. "I've missed you."

Rose and Jack looked at one another, surprised at the Doctor's openness.

"Oi!  You don't have to look at me like that!"

Rose took his hand to apologize.

"Take his hand, too, and don't let go till I say," the Doctor ordered.

Rose and Jack duly held hands, and the Doctor took Jack's other hand, so the three of them made a little triangle.  
   
"I'm crazy to say this," Jack said, clearing his throat, "but I learned something last time.  What you two have— it's so beautiful — but if I'm part of it, I need to be really part of it.  I can't worship you from a distance — I need a little worship in return."

"Doctor—" Rose said.  

"Jack—" the Doctor said at the same time.

They laughed and Rose marveled at the feeling of easy affection that flowed warm between their linked hands.

The Doctor looked to Rose to tell Jack their new understanding.

"We think Bad Wolf brought you back to life for a reason.  To be a part of us."

"Doctor?" Jack said, his eyes going dark with hope against hope.  

" I couldn't bear to look at you and not see you in time — but now, I can feel you, through Rose — I think your time stream vanished to me because the Bad Wolf absorbed your time stream into Hers."

"I get it," Jack said, understanding and gratitude in his eyes. "But you can see me now."

"Yes," the Doctor said, and the relief on his face was obvious.

"And — you like what you see?" Jack asked.  

"Yes," the Doctor said, his voice so tender that Jack flushed.  Rose felt his hand heat in hers, watched in rapt amazement as his countenance opened to the Doctor.

"I want to be a part of you −  what the two of you have. I want that so much," Jack admitted.  

Rose's heart pounded in her chest as the Doctor smiled. He frowned a little and then said, "Before I found Rose, I had no reason to live.  I was alive only because the Tardis wouldn't let me die. She kept me alive, coaxed me back onto my feet, took me places where I could see how life rebounds from destruction — and then she took me to Rose."

"Was it Bad Wolf?" Rose frowned.

"I don't know," the Doctor admitted.  "The Bad Wolf is a trans-time composite entity — something even I can't fathom.  A Time Lord can't look into the Vortex like you did.  You and the Tardis actually embodied the Vortex —it's beyond me.  But I've always trusted the Tardis to take me where I need to be. And she's brought me here, so."

He shook their hands, lightly, a hopeful smile illuminating his face.    
   
"She brought you to me, Jack.  You were a surprise companion.  It happens," the Doctor shrugged.  "I thought you were just another of Rose's pretty boys.   But then — you led me to her.  And I can never, ever thank you enough."

"It was a privilege," Jack said honestly.

"Yeah, thank you," Rose added, and Jack nodded.

Rose watched the Doctor risk sharing his emotions, and she thought she'd never seen him so brave.  Bonding with her had changed him.  He was still arrogant, bossy and rude most of the time — but he was also secure in a way he'd never been before.  

"Rose gave her life to me, and now, Jack, you're offering me that same precious gift.  I'd be a fool to refuse.  I'd be honored, elated — ecstatic!— to accept you into our bond."

"My God, Doctor," Jack said, a toothy smile spreading across his face — "that was beautiful!"

Rose snorted at Jack's tone of playful mockery — but the Doctor rolled his eyes and gave a sheepish grin that was so him that they all three laughed.  

"So," Jack said.  "Is it, what, naked slumber party time?  Big old cuddle?  Doctor sandwich?"  

Rose sat up a little straighter.  "I vote for all of those things."  

The Doctor rolled his eyes.  

Jack grinned.  "Let's try Doctor sandwich."

The Doctor blushed dark.  "That —wouldn't be —very pleasurable for me — Gallifreyan anatomy."

As Jack shrugged, Rose suggested, "Jack sandwich?"

The Doctor hung his head.  "Sorry, that won't work either."

"Don't be sorry, Doctor," Jack said sincerely.  "I count myself lucky to be with you whatever way I can."

"But won't you — miss it?"  the Doctor said.

"Doctor,  I assure you there are a million ways for us to pleasure one another.  Right now, whatever makes me part of your bond is what I want, more than anything."

Rose coughed.  "Then that leaves — Rose sandwich?" She could feel the warmth of her face as she blushed.  

"Oooh, Rose," Jack said. "You like that idea."

She nodded, shivering.  Jack was so good at pushing all the right buttons.

"Rose Tyler, you little minx," he murmured, leaning towards her.  "Taking us both inside you, at once?  You want that?"

"Yeah," she said shakily.

"Yes, Jack," he corrected her.

"Yes, Jack," she said, heat flooding her body.

"Human females can do that?" the Doctor said, a bit hoarse, his ears burning red.

"They can," Jack said.  

"It won't hurt her?" the Doctor repeated.

"Of course not," Jack said.  "We just have to make sure she's ready, and go slow at first," Jack said.

"How should I —?" Rose murmured.  

"See how eager she is to please us?  Heavenly stars, thank you for sharing!"  Jack said.  

Gracefully, Jack guided the Doctor's hand to Rose's breast.  Releasing that hand, he slid his own up the Doctor's arm, to the back of his neck.

"Kiss our darling girl, Doctor.  Lie back, Rose," he murmured.  

Rose lay back against the pillows and the Doctor followed her down to lie on one side of her, Jack stroking the Doctor's back and moving closer, to lie on his side next to them, careful all the while to remain in contact with Rose.  

"You kiss so beautifully," Jack murmured, "as though sipping the same air, as though worshipping with your lips.  May I?" he said, but without waiting for an answer, he nudged in alongside the Doctor, gently testing with his tongue and breathing in their exhalations.  Jack's hand traveled as they kissed, roaming from the Doctor's back to Rose's breast.  He trailed his kissed from her lips, down her neck to her breast, and the Doctor followed suit.

"Give us to suck, Rose," Jack said, and Rose moaned as she arched her back, offering her breasts to her lovers.  A thick haze of passion fogged her brain — some of it hers, some of it the Doctor's — but she loved the feeling of giving them whatever they wanted, a feeling of complete generosity and blissful abandon.  

"She's so beautiful, Doctor," Jack murmured between kisses.  

"She is, inside and out," the Doctor agreed.  

Jack trailed his hand down to her sex.  She was still slightly open from making love not long before, and newly aroused by their attentions, so she knew how wet Jack would find her.  

"May I taste her, Doctor?"   Jack asked.  

"Mmm," the Doctor said, occupied at her breast, his long fingers moving over to pinch lightly at the one Jack had left.

"Oh, Rose," Jack murmured as he slid down to look at her. "A shrine well laid to holy love — a true blessing," he said, drawing two fingers down between her lips, easing them inside and drawing them out to suck clean.  "Mmm," he moaned.  "I can't wait to join the Doctor inside you."  

He lowered his beautiful mouth to kiss and lick tenderly at her clit, while working his two fingers in and out of her loosened entrance. "This is lovely, Rose, truly.  So hot, so slick for us — and feel how you flutter!" he said.  

Rose could hardly think from the Doctor's tender assault on her breasts and Jack's down below.  

"Oh!" she gasped, "Doctor!  Jack!"  The two men were giving her so much pleasure, she hardly knew what bliss was best.  And should she come for them now, or try to wait?  

"Jack," the Doctor said.  "She wants to know if we'd like her to orgasm now."

"Yes, darling — come as often as you like — I'd love to feel you pulsing around my fingers," Jack said, and sucked a little harder, pressing his fingers deep, caressing the spot inside that drove Rose over the edge.  Arching her breasts to the Doctor, grinding down on Jack's hand, her whole body shook as she came.

"Scream, darling, all you like, it helps you breathe," Jack said between kisses.  

Rose obligingly screamed as wave after wave of orgasm pulsed through her body.  Jack eased a third finger inside her body; coated with her slickness it slid right in.  

"You're perfect, Rose, you're doing beautifully.  That's our girl," Jack crooned, four fingers then gliding smoothly in and out of her drenched sex.

"Doctor, your hand, please," Jack said, to give Rose a little warning.  Jack was doing incredible things with his hand, stroking deep inside, stroking her gently open, making her ready.  The thought of both lovers inside her towered in her mind.  She felt desperate to please them.  

"Rose, Rose, you could never fail to please us," the Doctor hushed.  He kissed her lips.  "Look at me," he said, and she stared up dazed into his brilliant blue eyes. "I love you, and Jack loves you, and everything else is a game."

"'S a good game!" Rose groaned.

"Yeah, it is," he smiled.  "Just enjoy it."

With that he slid down to join Jack.  

"Kiss her with me," Jack said, and the Doctor lowered his mouth to her sex as Jack interlaced two of the Doctor's fingers with three of his own, and slid them slowly inside her.  

"Ah!" Rose screamed, another wave of orgasm seizing her at the stimulation of their mouths sucking, their fingers caressing her deep inside. "Please! Please!" she gasped.

"Is it enough?"  the Doctor said.  

"I think so," Jack said.  "Now it's your turn to lie back."  

So the Doctor lay back beside the shuddering, gasping Rose.

"May I kiss you, here?" Jack said, reaching out to lightly stroke the Doctor where his sex would emerge.

"Yes, Jack," the Doctor whispered, and closed his eyes as Jack dragged a delicate tongue along the slit of his genital opening.  The Doctor trembled, stiffening, grasping the sheets in his fists.  

"Rose, tell me how it feels to him," Jack ordered.

Rose lifted one hand to the Doctor's temple and pulled her faculties together on the Doctor's behalf.   "He's thinking -- they would've called this shameful, obscene — but how perfect it is, how grateful he is to you, Jack."  

"I'm the grateful one," Jack said, "and there's no possibility of obscenity between the three of us, joined together here in the holy name of love."  His voice was soft but absolutely firm in its conviction.  

"Amen," Rose said, on impulse.  Jack smiled at her and turned his attention back to the Doctor.  

"God, he tastes fantastic," Jack said.

"Yeah," Rose agreed, "but I can only get in three or four licks before he bucks me off."

"Can you two shut up,"  the Doctor groaned from between clenched teeth.  

"Put your mouth to better purpose, he means," Jack directed.

"Yes, Jack," Rose said, and joined him in licking at the Doctor's strangely delicious pubic area.

"I want to see it," Rose said between licks.  "It feels so unbelievable inside me, I just want to see it."

Jack traced the opening with a curious finger.  "It's lubricated," he mused.  

"Shut up!" the Doctor yelled, bright red all the way down to his chest.  

"As you wish," Jack said, and licked at the slit so that his tongue dipped gently inside.

"Ah!" the Doctor cried, his head thrashing back and forth.  

"It feels good to him though, doesn't it?" Jack murmured.  

"Yeah, he likes it," Rose said, "he's just embarrassed."

"That's why there are two of us-- to hold him down," Jack whispered.

"Nattering on!" the Doctor groaned.

"Right," Jack said, "hold him tight—" then he lowered his mouth and began to kiss the Doctor's sex in earnest.  Rose thought her face would burn right off at the sight of Jack's lips boldly caressing the Doctor's private opening, his tongue darting lightly at the slit, just barely tracing it, teasing at it, not demanding entrance so much as dancing across the threshold.  Rose felt the Doctor buck, but she and Jack held him down.  And then, it began to emerge.

"Oh! Oh!" the Doctor cried, as his organ pushed out of his body.    It was dark, and slick, and looked a bit like a tongue, muscular and thick.

Jack daintily touched his tongue to the Doctor's organ and it pulsed toward him.  "Rose!" the Doctor keened.  

"He needs you, darling," Jack said. "Lie atop him — open yourself — take him in — very good — and now here — I am!" Jack knelt  up behind Rose, straddling the Doctor's legs, pushing inside her from behind, sliding in alongside the Doctor.  

"Oh, that's so good!" Rose groaned at the glorious fullness.

"Oh, heavenly stars!" Jack swore, as Rose felt the Doctor's sex lengthen and swell along Jack's, caressing them both within her tight embrace.

"Oh, oh, my god, what — that's — oh!" Jack shouted, unable to say anymore.  

"Mind to mind, Jack, now!" the Doctor groaned.  

Rose lifted a trembling hand to the Doctor's temple, astonished she was even able to move while she was so overwhelmed with sensation.  

Jack reached down, causing Rose to shout as he shifted angles inside her, and as he touched the Doctor's temple, the universe seemed to explode.

Light, fire, color, chimes — an explosion of sensation danced across her mind's eye as the Doctor took Jack deep inside his mind.  

A beautiful series of chimes, low and serene, but ending on a high resounding peal, rang through the Doctor's mind, Jack's name in Gallifreyan.

Jack's psychic presence was so different from the image the Doctor had formed of him that it took Rose by surprise.  While the Doctor was made of fire, wind and sky, Jack was like rain, earth and sea.  The Doctor was like a burning sun, but Jack was like an infinite expanse of stars.  His spirit was a little melancholy, a little torn, but so noble and steady.  His deep inner strength and resolve was a perfect counterpoint to the Doctor's edgy energy, Rose's eager enthusiasm.  He still registered as an anomaly to the Doctor's senses — but now Bad Wolf's reversal of his death and the sequestering of his timeline seemed a fixed point, a deep, quieting breath in the chaotic storm that pursued the Doctor through life.  If the Doctor was an oncoming fury, Jack was the calm at the eye of the storm.  

Rose was drawn to that calm, felt herself soothed by it, ravished by it— Jack's hunger was tender but passionate.  She reached out to the Doctor, and Jack drew him in as well.  The Doctor was like fire, like a storm of energy and light — and Jack was like a veil of mist that tempered his unbounded heat, preserving sight in the eye that looked on him.  Rose felt herself to be the land over which they played — her bond with the Tardis still hummed in her mind, Bad Wolf grounding her lovers in grace like a bountiful  Goddess of Fortune.

The harmony of their names shimmered endlessly around them, and from deep below another voice echoed — the Tardis,serenading the lovers she'd brought to her Time Lord.

The three floated in ecstasy, dancing in intricate improvised patterns, celebrating the love and trust binding them together.  At last they could intertwine themselves no more closely; their union reached its pinnacle of bliss, and they receded back into their own minds, back into their passion-sated bodies.  

Jack eased free and began licking them clean as they slid away from one another.  

"I could get used to this," Rose said, resting peacefully on the Doctor's shoulder as Jack licked her tenderly and moved on to the Doctor.

"I never will," the Doctor said, "I'll thank my lucky stars each and every time."  Rose kissed him on the cheek.  He shivered as Jack swiped at him with an eager tongue.

"Now who will do me?" Jack said.  "Doctor?" he grinned wickedly.  

"I'm gonna love this," Rose said, avidly.

"You two are horrid.  Nasty and low.  Rassilon had the right idea chucking all this rubbish into the bin," the Doctor grumbled through a brilliant smile, sitting up.

"Jack!" he exclaimed.  "You're not touching Rose!"

He blanched.  "Sorry!"

"No!" the Doctor laughed.  "It's fine now!  The bond — it's fixed everything!"  His smile was a glorious thing to behold, radiant with happiness.  

"Come here, you!" he said, pulling Jack hard, so he landed on his back on the bed.  

"Rose," he growled, "help me hold him down!"

"Yes, Doctor," Rose purred.  

"Oh, heavenly stars!"  Jack groaned.  

There was a lot more groaning where that came from.  

 

 

 

 


End file.
